


3 Weeks, They Said

by potat



Category: Dangan Ronpa, runaway au - Fandom
Genre: F/F, mention of Kirizono
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potat/pseuds/potat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kyouko Kirigiri; the vice-principals daughter, the straight-a student who has no time for the social hierarchy and whose aloof nature has placed her in a negative light with her classmates is caught by her parents, blazing it up in her room one night with her hands up another girl’s top. Taeko Yasuhiro, otherwise known as Celestia Ludenberg; contrived as the class slut, the achiever who doesn’t need to try -more for the flick of her skirt in the teacher’s direction than the marks on her paper- is sick to death of people judging her before they know her. On a night of whimsical running away, Celes almost hits Kirigiri with her moped. Long story short; they run away. 3 weeks, they say, and then they’ll go home. 3 weeks to escape and then they’ll be brave again. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A Oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 Weeks, They Said

**Author's Note:**

> reasonably cheesy. i shouldnt type late at night

Kyouko Kirigiri; the vice-principals daughter, the straight-a student who has no time for the social hierarchy and whose aloof nature has placed her in a negative light with her classmates is caught by her parents, blazing it up in her room one night with her hands up another girl’s top. Taeko Yasuhiro, otherwise known as Celestia Ludenberg; contrived as the class slut, the achiever who doesn’t need to try -more for the flick of her skirt in the teacher’s direction than the marks on her paper- is sick to death of people judging her before they know her. On a night of whimsical running away, Celes almost hits Kirigiri with her moped. Long story short; they run away. 3 weeks, they say, and then they’ll go home. 3 weeks to escape and then they’ll be brave again.

__

A fine layer of mist graced the morning. The thickness spiralled, swirled. It permeated the thick trees and undergrowth along the highway, the track through the woods. Fresh tyre marks had imprinted themselves in the mud of the morning, though there was a space of uncounted miles between that track and the moped. Kirigiri watched from her seat at the base of the tree. She watched the girl, Celestia –Taeko, she reminded herself of the name given in confidence- atop the moped, struggling with a tin of soup. The struggle was not so much opening the canned goods, but finding it amongst the clutter in the moped’s main compartment in the seat. Kirigiri had already offered a hand, and was peaceably watching the short skirt inch up the more Taeko fumbled around. “I do have half a sandwich if you want it.” Kirigiri reminded her, a lazy half smile on her lips.

“Fuck you!” Taeko replied cheerily, finding her long awaited tin much to Kyouko’s skirt-watching disappointment. The thigh high boots stained with mud brought the owner down and sat next to her lilac companion. Without further ado she opened the tin and drank the insides cold. The mist had already, as previously discovered, rendered all attempts at fire making null. Maybe when they hit the next motel would they get a warm meal. Around the pair, birds chorused in the morning, the wind rustled branches together in a harmonious gathering of soft cracks. It was too late in the year for any serious leaves to be sticking around, but those that remained rushed with all they had. The sun found them through the trees, capturing the moisture dripping off the headlamp, the fuel gauges of the moped. A strange attachment had formed to it, the tarnished paint with its white stripes reminding them of their joyous freedom. Again Kirigiri was reminded of the dead phone, battery long gone, sat at the bottom of her crammed pockets.

Her gaze turned to find her companion. The light danced in Taeko’s hair, capturing the brunette amongst the black, strands of red alighting. The skin, the freshness of her that the school had been so sued to hadn’t remained for long without cosmetics. A sore spot rested above her lip, red scattered around her hairline. The same was probably true for Kirigiri herself, but in Taeko’s case she still emitted that confidence, that radiant beauty that most immediately took for seductive wills. The lips parted, letting the air from her lungs condense before the two. Kirigiri had heard, since their travels began, many philosophical statements, so much truth, surprising amounts of t the bone honesty from the girl she felt herself seize in apprehension. Past blown kisses and fluttering eye lashes hid a brain so deep, so well thought, Kirigiri realised deeply how much was lead to waste by a brutally untrue stereotype. “You smell like a hobo.”

“So do you.” Kirigiri replied without a moment’s pause, realising that maybe once again she’d worked herself up. Taeko took the response nodding, raising the soup can to her lips again. “We’re headed for another motel, right?” Taeko nodded slowly with a look that suggested she was talking to a young child who just wasn’t listening. “Just checking.”

“It’d be nice to have a bed again.” Kirigiri nodded, “I miss beds.” Taeko added, faux seriousness on her face. Kirigiri laughed bright into the morning.

“Yeah, about the only thing that I miss, I’ll be honest.” She meant to pass it off in a joking fashion with the smile still dazzling in her eyes, but Taeko was sharp and Kirigiri kept forgetting it.

“Yes how is your imperfect life going for you, Miss Straight-As?” the intense stare was not aided by the fake smile curving Taeko’s lips. Celestia truly played with a complex hand and deeply thought out game plan. “Remind me why mummy and daddy are such threats to your well-being?” Kirigiri’s eyes darted to that small scar on Taeko’s lip, her memory providing her with the cigarette burns she had been allowed to see, to touch, to kiss in a dank, dark room with a tattering ceiling fan and mingy double bed.

“They…” now she felt like a hypocrite. Her hands bunched into fists and she wiped the crumbs from her trousers angrily, impatience darting along her nerves. “It’s…” she huffed, “It’s complicated.” She saw the sceptical eyebrow being raised. “They’re not very…” It was hard talking to the stone wall of emotion beside her sometimes. “Okay, so I’m gay, right?”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Taeko drawled, bringing to mind instantly all the places they’d managed to fuck in up to that point. Kirigiri rolled her eyes.

“They may have… threatened me.” Silence, no words spoken to hastily, “Bribed me with money they didn’t have. Pleaded.” Kirigiri’s shoulders slumped, jostling the layers wrapped tight around her frame. She stared into the eyes of her partner, “I don’t have it like you do. I’m not forced into the closet by everyone’s instant opinions. But I don’t have it perfect. And I certainly am not perfect.”

“Well, hate to break it to you sweetie, but no-one is. But at least you’re a high achieving kind of perfect.” Taeko relaxed back against the tree. “At least you don’t rely on those lies to build an image, huh? At least, at least people don’t mistake you being kind for you wanting to get with them.” She shuddered, the hands holding the half empty tin shaking. “At least you’re not pushed up against a locker every day, or have people making obscene gestures ta you just because they think it’s okay. You… you just have a few words. Words are nothing.”

“Words are everything.” Kirigiri mumbled, inching an arm around the girl’s shoulders, drawing her in. The warmth escaping them could do with being shared. “You know words are everything. You live on them, Taeko. Both of your names are words for God’s sake.” She played with an end of a hair strand, running the black and brunette through her fingers. It soothed her. Of all the things in the world which she could succeed in, the things she could do, all she wanted was to sit here at the arse crack of morning with the sun playing on her eyes and Taeko Yasuhiro in her arms. She’d known the girl for the three weeks they’d promised and the month they’d continued into. She knew her like no-one else back home did. She knew the girl past the slut, and she knew the girl past the at-home no-good. She knew her for a girl who knew what she liked and how she liked it; a person with scars and burns and worries and fears; a girl with confidence, power in her strength. Taeko Yasuhiro, Celestia Ludenberg was here in her arms and she wouldn’t give the world or her perfect grades for another glance if this girl was with her. “You don’t think words are dumb, and you know I hurt as much as you do. You’re letting them get to you. You’re clever. You know words, Taeko. Celes… You know them and use them and you’re so smart.” She kissed the top of the head, the hair that needed a wash, the tussled strands retaining only a hint of its normal form.

“And you’re brave.” Taeko replied stoically. “Don’t forget yourself if you’re going to complement someone with exaggerations. Be selfish, you twat. You deserve it. You work so hard for other people. You need some you time.” She chuckled, a dismissive bark. “And you had it too; why you joined me rather than running away by yourself, I do not know.” There was a moment of stillness, the conversation lulling. Maybe a hint of awkwardness seeped between the two. “You spiked my soup with something, didn’t you?”

“Are you saying that to cover up whatever you put in my sandwich?” The pair eyed each other with mock suspicion.

“But seriously, your parents are dicks. I wish I could’ve seen their faces though. You and the preacher’s daughter… Maizono, right?” a grin formed on Kirigiri’s face as she shook her head. Of course it had been Sayaka. Who else would’ve made her take such a huge risk? Well, her and the girl next to her, of course.

“I probably would’ve gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for that meddling weed.” She jumped to her feet, brushing the leaves from her butt –and she just knew Taeko was watching. Grabbing the straps of her rucksack, she began cleaning off the moisture from the moped’s seat with her sleeve. “Come on, we’ve got a motel to get to. You could do with a shower.”

“Ah!” a mock sound of indignant surprise. “Mere mortal, how dare you say such a thing to the sex goddess, Celestia Ludenberg?” she drained her soup and drop kicked the can with a victorious flourish. Snatching up her own bags, she bounced toward her lilac partner in crime. “Shall we head off before the sun gets too high?”

“In a moment, you’ve got soup on your mouth.” A lie. Cracked lips met scarred, a flutter of warmth sparking inside the two of them. A hand raised to cup a cheek, another slid to hold the waist. It only ended when Taeko lost her balance, almost dropping her bag on her foot.

“You got that soup good and proper there, didn’t you?” with a wink, she hopped onto the moped. Kirigiri slid on behind her, arms immediately finding her middle, lowering until more relaxed in her partner’s lap. The ends of her fingers fiddled with Taeko’s skirt and she could tell the girl was rolling her eyes. “And they say I’m the slut.” Taeko muttered, and again they sparked another conversation where they asked each other ‘but really, why does everyone use slut as an insult’.

__

The sun rose, the mist remained. In a town so many miles away, people worried and waited and screamed and itched for news of them, for news of their precious daughter, beloved top student, flirtatious friend, the midnight call to sneak out of the house. They waited and wondered and hoped and prayed. No-one even considered themselves the reason they’d gone away.


End file.
